Former Mayor (of Boston) Kevin White's wake is being held while I write this. Having lived and/or worked in Boston my entire life, I have an affection for all things Boston. I also have an appreciation for history and for those that contribute to our history by servicing the citizens of Boston. Kevin White was one of those people.
With the cloud of the Penn State/Sandusky/Paterno scandal still hanging, I think it is important to recognize men like Kevin White who have used their positions solely for the purpose of good.
The excerpt below from a boston.com article tells a simple but powerful story about the city administration while White was mayor.
From boston.com:
Catherine Sexton, 80, of East Boston, was not one of the political elite, but she was in line this afternoon just the same. Some 30 years ago, she said, in the 1970s, the White administration showed up at her house and put a curb cut in front of it, which was a boon to her teenage son who used a motorized wheelchair.
“They just rang our doorbell and told us that they saw we had a need. They came without being asked; it’s something I’ll never forget,” she said.
She said she had taken the Blue Line to the wake today, but “I would have walked here if I had to.”
Standstill
Atlas carried the weight of the heavens on his shoulders. Each of us also carries the weight of a world upon our shoulders, our own individual world. Each of our worlds is formed by a mix of puzzle pieces which come together differently for every person.
The weight of our worlds varies from day to day some days weighing no more than a feather and other days it seems each piece is made of iron.
The days in which our world is light are the days that we are able to move forward. It is on these days that we carry our worlds with pride high upon our shoulders and without discomfort.
The days our worlds are made of iron nearly bring us to our knees leaving us unable to do anymore than bear the weight. We sink, our worlds carried low upon our backs and it takes all our strength to simply stand still to keep from falling back.
Most of the time our worlds are a combination of pieces some made of feather and some made of iron. The weight fluctuates from hour to hour or even from minute to minute. Some days we move slower than others and yet we almost always are able to move forward.
Today I stand still.
Light Bulbs
Have you ever had a problem, big or small that seems as if it has no solution? After thinking on it for some time you come to a decision or plan of attack for said problem and then file it away. But wait…..hours later a light bulb suddenly appears, an obvious and perfect solution to the issue at hand.
Where did that sudden moment of realization come from though? It seems that things which are at “the back of our mind” are still in some ways being actively considered by our subconscious. Once our subconscious mind hits upon the right idea or thought it suddenly pushes that solution bright as day to the front of your brain.
It’s a curious phenomenon and something I think we see the results of most clearly when we forget a name or place. It’s only once we give up and no longer actively think about what it is we’ve forgotten that the answer appears. That name/place/item that suddenly comes to mind can’t have simply appeared, it can only be explained by our subconscious minds continuing in the background.
It would seem our subconscious minds have a lot more tricks up their sleeve than I think most of us realize.
Vis Dev Stuff
Did these two real quick, had a lot of fun. Credits for the ball character goes to Snowball Studios
Puzzling - 100 Word Picture Prompt
Ok, now what?
No seriously what does one do with a puzzle when it’s complete?
I don’t get the point of puzzles. It seems contrary to me to work on something for a week just to break it apart. Yet that’s exactly what you do with a puzzle.
Well there are also the people who glue and frame completed puzzles but that just isn’t for me. I like my art to be, well….art.
I also can’t see myself doing it again at a later date. I won’t see anything new doing it a second time.
It’s a rather puzzling hobby…..
Snowball VFX | Animation Studios
Something that I did real quick in Photoshop after I got back home last night from Snowball Animation Studios. Original character by Nir Ginat | Snowball Studios.
Trifecta.
I'm not one of those who boasts much. As a matter of fact, I hardly ever boast. At all.
However, I am giving myself a pat on the back for my performance this past fall semester in graduate school. My grades were:
MBAACM 684 Written Communication Graded A
MBAMGT 664 Legal Environment Graded B+
MBAMS 635 Operations Mgt Graded A-
And there is light at the end of the tunnel, finally. I still have six classes remaining until I receive my diploma, but it looks like I will be invited to attend the commencement ceremony in June. I can almost hear the huge sigh of relief now (from both Sarah and me)...until then, I will continue to trudge on.
However, I am giving myself a pat on the back for my performance this past fall semester in graduate school. My grades were:
MBAACM 684 Written Communication Graded A
MBAMGT 664 Legal Environment Graded B+
MBAMS 635 Operations Mgt Graded A-
And there is light at the end of the tunnel, finally. I still have six classes remaining until I receive my diploma, but it looks like I will be invited to attend the commencement ceremony in June. I can almost hear the huge sigh of relief now (from both Sarah and me)...until then, I will continue to trudge on.
A Hat Trick
Something which has long been an annoyance is the mess of hats hanging from the back of our closet door. I often wear hats in the summer, my husband almost always has a hat on and so together we have quite a few. They have annoyed me for two reasons, one that many hooks over the doors edge prevent it from closing properly and whenever I get something out of our closet I knock down 2, 3 or more hats.
Every single time.
After dealing with the ever growing collection the addition of two new Jets hats made me begin a search for the perfect hat rack. It continued on and on, I checked all the usual suspects, nothing. I searched online thinking eventually I’d find one I like, but no. Well to be fair I found one but the shipping was unbelievable. You’d think I requested shipping to the moon not Canada!
So I did what I always do when I want something in a very specific design which proves too hard to find, I made it. It was a very simple project, it’s simply a u-shaped length of chair rail with hooks all the way up its length. It took me about an hour to make, including waiting for the paint to dry and now I have a hat rack just the way I like it.
The fedoras don’t fit on the hooks but with only a few hats on the back of the closet door it now closes and best of all I don’t knock them off anymore. This little project cost me less than 20 dollars and I now have a hat rack that matches the rest of our décor and looks just the way I wanted it too.
The Bay Downtown
Stepping through one of the many decorative entrances into The Bay in downtown Winnipeg on the corner of Portage and Memorial is akin to stepping into a time machine, simply wipe away the new fashions lining the aisles and search out the details, the ornate clocks, the brass plates with their intricate lettering, the marble columns and molded plaster. Ride the narrow and somewhat bumpy escalators take a ride in the original 1926 elevators (I really hope those have been updated in the past 76 years) and see what was once and still is one of the grandest buildings in Winnipeg.
True the vernier may have faded, the glass may not sparkle in quite the way it did on it's opening day on November 18th, 1926, the floors may be chipped and cracked the amenities and architecture now quaint and out of date but once it was beautiful and state of the art.
Not only was it the first building in Canada to have a fully automated sprinkler system, but it also housed the deepest well in Canada and the largest cold fur storage in western Canada. The well provided water for store operations as well as supplying the 3 massive boilers which provided for a huge power station allowing the building to run completely independent of the city's main grid. It also had a massive air conditioning system and large refrigeration units for food available for the restaurants and retail sale. All this was controlled by a single "big board" in the chief engineers offices.
It was 6 floors of shopping including a restaurant, cafeteria, liquor store, grocers, furniture, clothing, public phones, a beauty parlor, an auditorium (complete with it's own orchestra), a post office and even a library.
It also housed 2 banks of elevators which opened on the main floor to an oblong lobby graced by not one but two of these lovely murals. The second bank of elevator cars was at some point removed (no idea when) leaving the 6 you see here although if you look up you can still see along the roof where the others once stood.
 |
| Mural at Downtown Winnipeg Bay Store (poorly put together) "The Pioneer" at Fort Garry, Circa 1861 |
Thank you New Balance.
So….I went for a run during my lunch break the other day. As I made my way across the pedestrian bridge which runs over Storrow Drive, I thought how cool it is that the sidewalks and pathways along the Charles River had been cleared of the snow (which had fallen over the weekend).
Must be a Mayor Menino thing, I thought.
Not sure this is maintained by the city – it could be State property.
Either way, I was thinking how great a thing it was that runners didn't have to worry about wiping out on the snow and ice.
I continued along and took note of a dozen or so other runners before seeing a few New Balance “banners” on poles which line the pathway along the river. The banners advertise the sponsorship agreement between the Department of Conservation and Recreation (DCR) and New Balance. Apparently in 2010 New Balance had agreed to provide the funding needed to keep the paths along the Charles clear for runners!
Thank you, New Balance.
This partially makes up for the mishaps at the Falmouth Road Race last August.
Must be a Mayor Menino thing, I thought.
Not sure this is maintained by the city – it could be State property.
Either way, I was thinking how great a thing it was that runners didn't have to worry about wiping out on the snow and ice.
I continued along and took note of a dozen or so other runners before seeing a few New Balance “banners” on poles which line the pathway along the river. The banners advertise the sponsorship agreement between the Department of Conservation and Recreation (DCR) and New Balance. Apparently in 2010 New Balance had agreed to provide the funding needed to keep the paths along the Charles clear for runners!
Thank you, New Balance.
This partially makes up for the mishaps at the Falmouth Road Race last August.
A Bridge To The Moon
I built myself a great big bridge
It will take you to the moon
I may have made a wrong turn
It will take you to the moonI started building near the fridge
Sometime late last June
I was making a great big omelet
And I found I had no cheese
So up I went I would not fret
To the moon it would be a breeze
I used all sorts of different things
To make it climb real high
Sticks and stones and lots of stringsTo reach up to the sky
I may have made a wrong turn
Somewhere along the way
It seems I’m hot enough to burnI’ve definitely gone astray
There’s blazing red and yellow flame
It’s over a hundred thousand degreesI hit the sun what an awful shame
I guess my omelet won’t get any cheese.
Night and Day
My morning brain is uncooperative, slow to be inspired, lacks creativity and seems to have issues with the basics of stringing words together to form sentences. I get a lot done in that first hour or so up and about yet it’s unconscious, moving through the same routine and habits by rote without thought or consideration, it just happens.
My evening brain is philosophical, thoughtful and creative. I can and often do think of a million things to do, to write, to consider yet the next day when morning brain has taken over those things seem to be somewhat lacking.
I forget, it seems that each night as my evening brains slips back into morning brain it wipes the slate clean. I’m left without a thought just a niggling little feeling of remembrance in the back of my mind. Attempting to recall any of these thoughts results in frustration as my morning brain can’t keep up to the past activity of my evening brain.
It would also seem, going over past posts, that it is my evening brain that comes up with the most intelligent and thoughtful musings. Those posts, the ones which were written either later in the day or evening always tend to be my favorites.
In some small ways the person that wakes up each morning is not quite the same one that goes to bed at the end of each day.
It’s an odd phenomenon and one which I’m sure many people could identify with. We’re the people who are not morning people. It isn’t a matter of tiredness or crankiness our morning brains simply do not work the same way as they do for the rest of the day. It’s like being in a fog and those with morning brain require light, sun and time for that fog to lift.
For some people it lasts only a few minutes, some about an hour and for some even most of the a.m. part of the day. I would say personally it takes about an hour for my morning brain to slip away and even then it’s more of a fade out. There isn’t one moment in that hour or so that I can identify as morning brain vs. daytime/evening brain. It simply slips away.
Let it Be
The week certainly went fast with a day off in the middle of the week. Even though we had a number of errands to do it was also a very rare day. The rarity is that the majority of the day was my husband and I just the two of us no kids, and no rush.
It seems our days particularly in recent months with a few added responsibilities that we haven’t had much time to enjoy just being together. It has seemed those few moments we have had just the two of us have been spent to tired or cranky to enjoy it.
Yesterday was a very pleasant day though, we went for lunch, did some furniture shopping which we have needed to do but haven’t been able to get too, we even had a short afternoon nap and capped the day off attending the Jets game.
I think part of what made it an easier day as it potentially could have become a high stress day with a few of the things that needed to get done on our list but I’ve stopped worrying. Or I’m trying to stop worrying particularly about things, people or situations that are beyond my control.
I’ve been frustrated and angry much of the time lately, tired and not sleeping well, worried and anxious. It’s time I started to let go off the things beyond my control regardless of what the results might be. I can only do my best and if sometimes my best just isn’t good enough I have to accept that and move on.
It’s time to stop dwelling on what isn’t getting done and focus on what is. So as of yesterday I’m turning over a new leaf, no more getting caught in the cycle of rush and stress, as John Lennon said let it be.
10 a day week
7x10
Friday-Slow poke day, seems to last about twice as long. Saturday- Dinner and drinks with friends leads to a congratulations given.
Sunday- All together now say SORRY back to start for you.
Monday-The start of a short week is not so bad.
Tuesday- running errands here there and absolutely everywhere is finally done.
Wednesday- I think my eyeballs froze on that cold morning walk.
Thursday- Day off from the world of work, yet madness persists.
Picture Day-Dogs in Boots
They both appear suitably embarrassed but it makes walking when it’s -37 outside almost tolerable. Speaking of -37, you know how I said I like winter, well I’d like to retract that statement because I have got to admit I’m not enjoying this cold snap in the least!
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Writing challenge- Seeing Ghosts part 1 of 2
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” asked Vic as he drove thru the hospital gates his wife sitting beside him.
She looked at Vic sadly but didn’t respond.
He pulled to a stop in front of the wide vestibule leading up the sanatoriums steps “Well I’m going to tell them in there. They’ll make you go away”
Yet Vic didn’t get out of the car, he sat hands clamped on the wheel staring up at the front doors uncertain if this was the right choice or not. He’d gone crazy that much was certain but he wasn’t hurting anyone maybe he could just live with it. He looked at his wife of 16 years sitting next to him and a lump formed in his throat he couldn’t live with her anymore, not this way. She had been too beautiful in life to face her as a ghost for the rest of his days.
She’d died almost a year ago now. At first when she reappeared it had felt wonderful to see her again to watch her move around their home but it wasn’t the same, he couldn’t hold her couldn’t even have a conversation with her. She didn’t speak or interact with him in any way she was just there with a look of sorrow and longing on her face. He couldn’t face it anymore.
The car door felt much heavier than normal as he pushed it open and walked slowly up the stairs not looking back to see if she followed or not. He looked up as a woman pushed open the front door, she wore a nurses uniform and had a smile on her face. “Victor Stoughton?” She asked
Vic nodded “We got your call and have you all set up, you’ll have a nice rest and get you back on your feet in no time” She was still smiling as she led him into the foyer and past the clerks sitting at the desk down a long hallway filled with all sorts of people wandering around, some looked perfectly normal to him some clearly not. He only hoped he wouldn’t become one of those who were clearly beyond the realm of normal.
Nearly a month after coming to the hospital Vic was beginning to think these people couldn’t help him if anything he felt even worse than when he’d first walked through the front doors. His wife still followed him from place to place, sitting next to him as he talked to the doctors, walking the halls with him watching everything he did.
If possible she looked sadder and more forlorn then before and now he had also begun to feel sick all the time, the food here which was all quite clearly out of cans wasn’t agreeing with him and he’d give anything for a cup of coffee but the only thing he had to drink was water from the fountain. His stomach was constantly in knots from the food and it seemed the place had developed a permanent musty smell which irritated his nose. He was always cold here and he worried the food and the cold was beginning to make him sick.
He’d thought about leaving a few times but she still followed him so how could he just go back to his life, he knew having walked in voluntarily he could leave whenever he wanted and his doctor had made it quite clear that he felt Vic would be ok in the real world despite seeing ghosts. In fact it seemed his doctor wanted him to leave to just accept the ghosts as part of his life and move on. He couldn’t seem to do it though these people didn’t look like he’d grown a second head when talking about all the ghosts and weird things that had happened to him since his wife died. They really seemed to understand.
Part 2
“Hey you hear from Vic?”“No, He said he needed to take some time off although I think I should talk to the Captain about him, he hasn’t called or anything in nearly a month” his partner answered not looking up from his paperwork.
He dropped his pen onto a stack of papers and looked up “After all he’s been through maybe we shouldn’t just be leaving him alone. You know what I haven’t taken lunch yet care to join me we’ll pop on over to his place see how he’s doing”
“Hey Vic, open up” Vic’s partner and the junior officer with him had been standing on Vic’s top step pounding on the door for the past five minutes.
“I don’t know man, doesn’t look like anyone has been here for awhile”
“No it doesn’t, you know what don’t mention this to the Caprain but I need to see what’s up here” Vic’s partner said as he bent down to examine the lock taking out his wallet and two thin strips of metal from inside at the same time.
It took just a moment to pop open the cheap lock and walk in. Right away you could tell that no one had been there for some time, the air was stale and musty. As the two cops walked around the main room Vic’s partner stopped beside the phone and read off the pad next to it. “Bayside rehab and sanitorium”
“That place closed down like five, ten years ago didn’t it?”
“Yeah it did” Vic’s partner said thoughtfully “but we’re going to take a drive over there anyways”
“VIC, HEY VIC YOU IN THERE”
Vic lifted his head from where it rested on his arm looking over at the woman sitting next to him, “what are they doing here” she only shrugged in response.
“I don’t think I’m ready to see them yet, maybe I should just stay quiet” Vic mused as his partner and a young cop walked through the door to the common room. “or not, hey Andrews how you doin”
“Vic what are you doing here?” He asked a look of horror on his face.
“Well I thought the answer would be obvious, I’ve been having a few little problems and I thought these fine people could help me out.”
“Vic no one else is here, the place closed down 7 years ago.”
An Itch
I have but one thing on my mind today and one thing only, the scratch on the back of my hand. It’s not a particularly bad cut, I can’t even recall quite how I did it now but it happened late last week and now 3 or 4 days later it is driving me absolutely batty!
To me this is one of the stupidest things our bodies do. Why when the last thing you should be doing is scratching would your skin itch so bloody much? Intellectually I know scratching will just open the scab, eventually cause scarring and drive me nuts twice as long then if I just leave it alone but c’mon!
I can’t stop thinking about it, it’s the classic angel/devil on your shoulder scenario. The devil sits there on my left telling me how good it would feel to just scratch for one second while the angel sits weeping on my right shoulder. Saying no don’t I’ll make it worse it’s a really bad idea. The devil though sits there screaming out a reminder itch, itch, itch! The constant irritation, the need to scratch is about all I can think of.
The angel will try and distract me, “think of something else” it will say and I’ll try my best only to find one hand slowly inching over to the other, possessed by the devil on the left. Next thing I know the itch will be gone as will the scab and ten minutes later the itch will return and the argument between angel and devil will just begin anew.
Sigh, haven’t scratched it yet.
TGIF
Hurray for Friday, TGIF and all that crap. Even better than just a mere Friday is that the weekend holds a lot of promise to be a great one. One of the things which is leading me to believe a pleasant weekend is to come is a lovely dinner with friends sans children planned for Saturday evening.
A full night of adult conversation what a wondrous and novel idea. Now, don’t get me wrong we both love our kids to pieces but they do have the tendency to be annoying as hell.
Sweet little angels that they can be parents and often particularly moms tend to get the short end of the stick. We are the ones who get to see the unreasonable side of them, the one that has selective hearing and loves to be defiant.
It’s the side of them that will claim a hairbrush is a method of torture, the one that will fight tooth and nail to wear sandals in the snow, refuse to eat a full meal without complaint, play with things they shouldn’t and do their absolute best to ignore common sense.
I know that they push their mothers (and fathers) because they need to learn where to draw the line and they can only learn where that is by pushing against it. It sounds reasonable on paper but the practice can be rather frustrating and every once in awhile those they push against need a break from the pressure.
Alright enough complaints from the peanut gallery over here, I’ve got great kids and I know it but after the rush and madness of the holiday season it will be nice to have what is promising to be a relatively calm and relaxing weekend. See you all on the flip side (aka Monday)!
Winter Days
Winter has come to Winnipeg
And the gusting wind does blow
It is 60 miles an hour
And nearly 30 degrees below
I’m beginning to fear frostbite
From just a moment out the door
The snow is swirling everywhere
The wind is at a roar
Twilight seems to last all day
As clouds disguise the sun
The darkness makes time decay
The days and nights are one
But I would not leave this icy place
The reasons aren’t profound
It really is quite simple
I’m frozen solid to the ground
Picture Day-Aquarium life
For many years my husband and I have had a west aftrican Cichlid fish tank which has always provided a wonderful splash of color and life to our living room. My husband has for the longest time wanted to add a crayfish to the tank and he finally got his wish. Meet Mayor McPinchy (no I did not name him) an electric blue crayfish and the newest addition to our tank.
Writing challenge- Seeing Ghosts part 1 of 2
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” asked Vic as he drove thru the hospital gates his wife sitting beside him.
She looked at Vic sadly but didn’t respond.
He pulled to a stop in front of the wide vestibule leading up the sanatoriums steps “Well I’m going to tell them in there. They’ll make you go away”
Yet Vic didn’t get out of the car, he sat hands clamped on the wheel staring up at the front doors uncertain if this was the right choice or not. He’d gone crazy that much was certain but he wasn’t hurting anyone maybe he could just live with it. He looked at his wife of 16 years sitting next to him and a lump formed in his throat he couldn’t live with her anymore, not this way. She had been too beautiful in life to face her as a ghost for the rest of his days.
She’d died almost a year ago now. At first when she reappeared it had felt wonderful to see her again to watch her move around their home but it wasn’t the same, he couldn’t hold her couldn’t even have a conversation with her. She didn’t speak or interact with him in any way she was just there with a look of sorrow and longing on her face. He couldn’t face it anymore.
The car door felt much heavier than normal as he pushed it open and walked slowly up the stairs not looking back to see if she followed or not. He looked up as a woman pushed open the front door, she wore a nurses uniform and had a smile on her face. “Victor Stoughton?” She asked
Vic nodded “We got your call and have you all set up, you’ll have a nice rest and get you back on your feet in no time” She was still smiling as she led him into the foyer and past the clerks sitting at the desk down a long hallway filled with all sorts of people wandering around, some looked perfectly normal to him some clearly not. He only hoped he wouldn’t become one of those who were clearly beyond the realm of normal.
Nearly a month after coming to the hospital Vic was beginning to think these people couldn’t help him if anything he felt even worse than when he’d first walked through the front doors. His wife still followed him from place to place, sitting next to him as he talked to the doctors, walking the halls with him watching everything he did.
If possible she looked sadder and more forlorn then before and now he had also begun to feel sick all the time, the food here which was all quite clearly out of cans wasn’t agreeing with him and he’d give anything for a cup of coffee but the only thing he had to drink was water from the fountain. His stomach was constantly in knots from the food and it seemed the place had developed a permanent musty smell which irritated his nose. He was always cold here and he worried the food and the cold was beginning to make him sick.
He’d thought about leaving a few times but she still followed him so how could he just go back to his life, he knew having walked in voluntarily he could leave whenever he wanted and his doctor had made it quite clear that he felt Vic would be ok in the real world despite seeing ghosts. In fact it seemed his doctor wanted him to leave to just accept the ghosts as part of his life and move on. He couldn’t seem to do it though these people didn’t look like he’d grown a second head when talking about all the ghosts and weird things that had happened to him since his wife died. They really seemed to understand.
Disappearing Ink
I had a post today honestly I did, where it went no freaking idea. See I wrote today’s post on Friday anticipating a very busy weekend and a cranky Monday what with getting back into the routine of school days after 2 weeks off. So I did it ahead of time, which I do once in awhile and scheduled it to post this morning.
Finally checked on it and it is apparently gone, kaput, disappeared where it went I don’t know. Apparently in my insightful ways I also neglected to save it anywhere other than on blogger. A pity too as it was funny, insightful and the best darn post ever, ok no it wasn’t, not by a long shot but darn it, it was done.
So since blogger made a meal of today’s insightful and humorous post and it is now much too late in my I have to get how much crap done day to write a new one I’m just going to ago ahead and bitch for a moment or two.
As predicted I am indeed having a cranky ass Monday. Sleep was how shall I say it, interesting last night and I woke up unable to straighten my arm without my fingers tingling and my elbow screaming in protest. I also managed to fall on my ass getting across the ditch to walk the dogs first thing this morning, not hard enough to damage anything although my pride is slightly wounded.
Next after returning from my lovely morning walk I went to make coffee and spilt one nice large scoop of coffee grinds onto my floor, I blame the elbow thingy going on. I also managed to drop the full kettle which splashed some nice comfortably temperate water on my hand. Sigh; yes it was boiling hot, no blisters just an angry red.
I also neglected to check school lunch supplies and so one girl was sent with a meager and not particularly healthy lunch and the other money for the cafeteria. Which means I shall be forced to go going grocery shopping tonight, ick.
And now a post apparently written in the online equivalent of disappearing ink. Ahhh Monday go away, please……..
Snowball VFX | Animation Studios
One More Christmas
We have one last Christmas event tonight joining friends for a traditional Ukrainian Christmas dinner. The second of the year in fact as we shared Christmas Eve with my husband’s brother and his in-laws who made a fantastic traditional dinner.
This is a new experience for both my husband and me. My husband is of Ukrainian descent but didn’t grow up with these traditions; I’m not Ukrainian at all although my heritage does lend itself to a few similarities including dishes such as borscht and cabbage rolls.
I have made attempts to make some of the traditional Ukrainian dishes with my husband and he can make some very good pyrizhky which is a bun filled with meat or sauerkraut but neither of us can make pyrohy (perogies).
Well at least not the type you would be inclined to enjoy or that doesn’t result in a kitchen absolutely covered in flour. It seems making good pyrohy takes a bit of practice, or that there must be some little trick to them that I just don’t get. I’m not a bad cook but bread and dough is certainly not my strong suit and Ukrainian dishes do seem to have a lot of bread and dough involved.
It’s interesting to note how these little things seem to be more important as we get older. It seems not just to us but many of our friends that knowing more about our heritage, where we came from and what the traditions are become more important as we age.
I know a lot of my family history thanks to my mother who has completed rather exhaustive genealogical records of both sides of my family but my husband who has always connected to the Ukrainian side of his heritage knows much less than he would like to about it.
I’m sure we will both enjoy the evening even if neither of us is quite sure what it is we’re all eating.
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